Page 52 of The Sicilian Billionaire's Neglected Wife
“How is she?”
“Sad. Tired. Getting thinner. But strong. Stronger than anyone expected.”
Including me.
Eusebio folds the paper and sets it aside. “And you,signore?What steps have you taken lately?”
“Aside from making a fool of myself in front of the entire town, you mean?”
A slight smile cracks the older man’s face. “I cannot deny it has been...entertaining, watching you try to woo your wife. But surely you have a plan?”
“I shouldn’t even need to have a plan since Sienah is still my wife—” I stop speaking the moment I notice the way Eusebio shakes his head. “What is it?”
“You do not know, obviously.”
“Know what?”
He looks at me soberly. “Your father has been busy lately. He has requested that your wife attend to certain legal matters—”
Fuck.
I could’ve sworn Miguel hadn’t been lying when he told Olivio and me that he’s decided to surrender his life to his faith. It’s why we had that massive cleanup so many years ago, legitimizing every business under our name and even going as far as cutting off all ties tofamigliethat insisted on doing things the old-fashioned way.
Miguel and Selena were supposed to be the real deal, their faith as unwavering as their commitment to live a life without compromise. So why, dammit? Why were they now asking my wife attend to legal matters that could only pertain to our separation? Weren’t they supposed to be fucking against divorce?
****
IDON’T WASTE TIMEtelling Adriano what’s happened, and my friend comes through like he always does. The photos arrive at midnight, and my chest clenches at the sight of Sienah walking into a law office, in a dress that I still remember her telling me shyly she’s bought to match my team colors.
But now she’s wearing it for another fucking man, and I just want to commit murder.
The next photo shows her shaking hands with a man in his thirties. Tall, dark hair going silver at the temples, kind eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He’s handsome in that understated way that suggests character over charisma, and it’s Miguel being true to his word.
The man is everything I’m not, and by the time I see the third photo, I’m not just ready to kill. I know who it is I’m going to fucking beat to death, too.
This time, the asshole is holding my wife’s elbow as he guides her around a puddle. The fourth photo shows him still in physical contact with Sienah as he helps her climb up to his Mercedes SUV.
I look at all the photos again, and this time I notice something worse.
It’s the way he’s looking at my wife like she’s precious.
And that he’s only biding his time until he can give her the words I could never give her.
FUCK!
I study the photos until my eyes burn. Zoom in until the pixels dissolve into meaningless dots. But I can’t unsee what’s there: my wife, allowing another man to treat her the way I never learned to.
Four photos.
One replacement husband.
Ten years of marriage reduced to a business transaction I’m already losing.
****
THE BATHROOM MIRRORshows me a stranger.
Hollow cheeks. Three days of stubble. Eyes like burnt-out headlights. This is what Aivan Cannizzaro looks like when he finally understands the difference between losing a race and losing everything.
